


The Scurry

by Still_beating_heart



Series: Yes Really, A Chipmunk [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bahahaha I said fluff, Chipmunk Stiles Stilinski, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:33:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Still_beating_heart/pseuds/Still_beating_heart
Summary: Stiles looks out over the crowd of scampering chipmunks, his tribe, his murder, his destruction, his pack, his gaggle.  So chipmunk grouping is officially a scurry, which makes all kinds of sense and all, but a destruction of chipmunks just sounds so much cooler.So Stiles looks out over his Scurry.  Counting heads as they dart around on the grass picking up nuts, and berries, bird seed and apple cores that he’s provided them with for this meeting, “and then,” he tells them matter-of-factly, “we will take over the world!”
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Yes Really, A Chipmunk [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911907
Comments: 21
Kudos: 149





	The Scurry

The Scurry 

Stiles looks out over the crowd of scampering chipmunks, his tribe, his murder, his destruction, his pack, his gaggle. So chipmunk grouping is officially a scurry, which makes all kinds of sense and all, but a destruction of chipmunks just sounds so much cooler.

So Stiles looks out over his Scurry. Counting heads as they dart around on the grass picking up nuts, and berries, bird seed and apple cores that he’s provided them with for this meeting, “and then,” he tells them matter-of-factly, “we will take over the world!”

“Okay Brain,” comes out of left field (or really right off the side of the house that they built together in the Preserve two years ago after Stiles graduated and Derek bought a chunk of property back here, further away from the old Hale house, but still in the same general area of the county). And the Scurry runs off. The Scurry scurries off! 

“Hey!” Stiles whines, crossing his arms over his furry chest and giving his best chipmunky pout at Derek’s scowl, “I was really getting through to them this time!”

“Sure, sure you were,” Derek stalks up the porch steps, a bag of groceries on either hip.

“Just because they still can’t understand me, doesn’t mean I can’t immerse them enough in my language to get them used to it, and I used to them, and we’ll learn mutually from each other and…” Stiles throws his hands over his head when Derek’s boot playfully posts itself right over his head like he’s about to get stepped on, “you’re a jerk,” he mumbles, shifting into human easily.

Derek slaps his bare ass, quirks a smile at him and waits for him to open the door while he rebalances the groceries on his hip, “so you can balance that enough to slap my ass, but not to pull open the sliding door?” Stiles shakes his head at his long-term boyfriend who should probably be another step above that by now (they’ll talk about it someday, they sure will), while said boyfriend smirks at him.

“Just wanted to let you enter first.”

“So you could stare at my ass.”

“Can you blame me?”

“I certainly can. I can blame you for a lot of things Derek Hale. Where shall I begin,” he shoots a playful smile over his shoulder, since sealing the sarcasm with a smile is sometimes helpful when dealing with broodywolf himself who still blames himself for all kinds of things (they’ll talk about that someday too, they sure will), but for now, they’ll just keep up with the teasing and fooling around about everything that holds weight. 

“So what exactly are you planning with your Scurry? And do you really have to feed them all the bird seed?”

“Yes. I do,” stopping at the couch to step into his boxers. Very gracefully. And not getting them tangled up somehow on the way up his legs.

“They’re backwards.”

“Oh,” Stiles drops them, “my Scurry, I will have you know, though I prefer Destruction, is going to…”

“Isn’t destruction for kittens?”

“I think destruction is for anyone who wants to cause destruction but yes it is the official term for a grouping of wild cats. Wild cats, Derek, not furry kittens,” he steps into his boxers again. 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to not name your pack after something that preys on your kind?”

“I thought they weren’t my kind Derek, because I’m a Stiles.”

When he trips over the end table on his way to the kitchen to help put the groceries away, Derek laughs. Bastard. But kisses his forehead when he’s near enough, “a Stiles indeed.”

“The one and only.”

“Luckily.”

“Har-de-har-har dear. Anyway my Scurry and I are going to gather intel from top secret government labs and military outposts and political buildings by infiltrating the duct work and then we’ll take over the world.”

“That simple, huh?” his eyebrows are loudly saying they don’t agree with that plan.

“Very much.”

“Okay, well when they start to understand you, and you amass your army of adorable rodents to take over the world with, you let me know. I’ll take the lookout position.”

“Deal. You have yourself a deal Big Guy.”

“And in the meantime…”

“I will not stop feeding them bird food Derek! Chipmunks gotta eat too!”

“There is already plenty for them to eat, and eat it they do. I saw a little bastard take down a cheek-full of blackberries the other day.”

“Excuse you, watch what names you use when referring to my kind!”

“It wasn’t even disturbed when a robin dive-bombed it to scare it away.”

“Of course it wasn’t. My Scurry will take on much bigger and bolder predators. This is just training.”

“You are so…”

“Shh,” his finger rises, plants itself in the center of Derek’s pretty lips, “don’t finish that sentence. You might regret it.”

His lips are turning into a smile. Something that he does a lot more freely now than he ever used to, but it doesn’t lessen it’s impact on Stiles’s heart. Not in the least. 

——————

“Why can’t I understand the chipmunks?” Stiles props his chin on Derek’s chest. Lying in bed, with his hands behind his head, the sweat still drying from a particularly satisfying romp, “or better question, why can’t they understand me? If everyone other than you hears my words as chipmunk chatter when I’m shifted, then why don’t they?”

Derek has his thinking face on. It’s so pretty. Stiles runs his finger down the center of his chest, watching goosebumps chase the trail he makes, “they’re mostly Sonoma Chipmunks around here. And you look more like a Least Chipmunk.”

“How dare you? I am not a Least! I am a beast!”

“You’re certainly something,” he tucks his chin into his chest to look at Stiles, fondness written all over his face.

“So you think they have dialects? And why didn’t I think of that sooner?”

Shrug, “there is too much happening in your head at all times to be bothered with some smaller details.”

“Nice excuse,” but he's pretty sure the chipmunks just think he's an idiot. Stiles can feel a smile rising on his face, Derek’s hand appearing from behind his head and trailing down Stiles’s arm. Then back up, and over, and, “knock it off, you know that’s my tickle spot!”

“Oh, is it?” his fingers crook, making their way into Stiles’s armpit.

“This is a battle you aren’t going to win Hale,” he promises before he dives face-first into Derek’s neck, nuzzling right in and blowing out through his nose.

Derek squirms and Stiles shifts. Going in with his whiskers, then his paws, rubbing his tail simultaneously along his jawline. Derek laughs, like wind chimes and church bells peeling and the wind through the trees rippling and swaying around Stiles’s ears until he gets so squirmy that there’s, “danger, Will Robinson,” Stiles announces, taking note of how breathless Derek is after the tickle torture. Breathless in a childlike way.

And very quickly breathless in a too-much-weight-on-the-sternum kind of way when Stiles shifts back. His butt still centered over Derek’s chest for a split second before he gets shoved off with a laugh and a groan. Derek rolling to his side to face Stiles’s side of the bed while he gathers himself from all the laughter it takes to get his shit together after making the big bad wolf laugh so hard. 

“You’re an asshole,” Derek huffs, tossing an arm over his chest, tugging him into his little spoon position while his body still shakes with laughter.

“Yep. And I’m all yours. Forever,” the laugh that follows is totally not at all demonic though.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are awesome :)


End file.
